Affectionately Mad
by Xmarksthespot
Summary: Bart hugs himself because he's cold and because he's the only person he has left. Spoilers for Bloodlines; Impulse/Bart


**Title**: Affectionately Mad  
**By**: Xmarksthespot  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own YJ  
**Words**: 1,700 +  
**Notes**: Did any of you guys notice how Bart just loved to hug? Also, apologize for poor characterization skills. Still trying to be able to write a Speedster in an angstier environment. Oh and **spoilers** for **Bloodlines**

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Bart slept in what used to be his cousin (once removed) Wally's room that night at the mountain. He knows this is Wally's room because the ripped corner of the extremely rare _Flash_ poster is still taped onto the wall behind the moldy drawers. There was a large contrast between this room and the others: it smelled like sweaty gym socks mixed with rotting compost despite the redhead having not touched the room for almost thirty-nine years. Bart sticks with this room anyway because it was his only connection left to his family and in all honesty, that makes him feel a lot warmer in this winter air.

In his left breast pocket, he has a packet of matches that he managed to sneak away from the convenience store without _them_ noticing, but he doesn't dare use them in the middle of the night when he's unguarded. Rather, he vibrates his arms and legs to speed up his molecules and warm himself up. He doesn't do it for too long though, or else risking hunger which he couldn't afford to feel right now. It was only enough to warm his body up before he throws on as many covers on as possible to shield himself from the winter air that pushes its way through the cracks and spaces of the once homely mountain.

He wonders how his grandmother is fairing right now, knowing that she's a strong woman despite having to raise both his dad and his Aunt Dawn all on her own without his grandfather, but shakes his head the moment a doubting thought surfaces.

"No, Bart, no! No time to be feeling the mode!" He tells himself quickly – to an outsider, his lips may have moved, but no sound could be heard. He wipes a tear away with the blanket, though his lips begin to quiver as he speaks. "You're going to be just fine. Grandma Iris will be fine in that shelter with the others. Only a few more hours before Neutron and you finish this and then you can help save the future! Then Grandma Iris and Grandpa Barry will live happily ever after, and mom and dad, and Aunt Dawn, and Cousin Wally. It's going to be crash!"

He reached out his hand in the form of a fist, pumped for what was in store for him but hurriedly draws it back under the covers to shield it from the February chill. He pulls his legs in and rests his chin on his knees.

Bart grins to no one in particular, but merely at the thought of travelling to the past to see his family whole again. He inwardly congratulates himself for a job well done, and then proceeds to pat himself on the back imagining his father doing the same had he learned what Bart accomplished – or is going to accomplish.

"Aw, shucks, dad," Bart murmured, his stinging eyes now drooping slightly, "I'm only great cause of you!"

As if it was a nightly ritual for the young boy, he used both of his arms to wrap around his upper body tightly, giving a wide smile.

"Love you too, mom… Thanks Grandma Iris. H-Hey, Wally, you don't have to squeeze me so hard," his voice cracked slightly, hesitant and unsure if his cousin Wally was a hugger – he seemed friendly enough, based on what he's heard from his remaining relative. "Hmph, fine, if Wally's not a hugger, I'll just make him one. Can't be a Speedster without the friendly hugs!"

He closed his eyes and tries to picture his grandparents laughing at the sight of him hugging a twenty-something year old Wally (Grandma Iris only had pictures from when he was a baby up until he was twenty-six, so it was all Bart could conjure up in his mind). Maybe his parents would be out back, helping with the annual summer barbeque he knew his family would have had had things turned out right here on Earth – maybe the rest of the League are outside of the door, waiting to be invited in.

_Crack!_

Snapping out of his fantasy, Bart's head shot up, wide eyed. A jolt of electricity runs down his back, commanding him to look from side to side as fast as he could. He pulled in the blankets around himself, securing it with one hand as his more dominant arm was ready to push himself off of the bed in case he had to rush out of the area as fast as possible. Only the wind responded in a lonely howl, and Bart sighed in relief.

"Go away, Windy!" he whispered fiercely at Mother Nature outside of the rundown door. "Come back when you're nicer. You're not invited to the Allen family barbecue." He pretended to shoo away one of his only companions on this mountain, aside from the prisoner, Neutron. Had Bart not inherited the speedster's accelerated healing, he would've had the frostbite on his face as proof of his other friend's nastiness. The wind ignored him and continued to roar outside Mount Justice.

The slight tingle of paranoia still hovered over Bart however. He begins to claw onto his own skin to the point where he had faint, temporary pink stripes along his arms just to wake every muscle in his body in case _something_ decided to snack early. He does it harshly enough for the blood in his body to run. When scratching on his arms wasn't enough, he yanks at his hair and reminded himself to burn the loose strands to hide evidence of his existence in the morning. This was all a painful process for the boy, because he made sure his body was really awake. It had to be ready for anything – he knew from experience.

He still fidgets wildly. His eyes continue to move at light speed, scanning the room for a glowing pair of red lights staring at him hungrily from afar, but after the fifth check, Bart shakes away the goosebumps and attempts to calm his own heart. At least where he'll be going, the colour red is a good sign.

Lying back down, Bart tries to fall asleep, but excitement dominates fear when he thinks about the last few steps of Project Time Travel; it prevents him from being any sleepier than he was an hour ago. He turns to his side and faces the dark wall – everything in that room was dark, though he doesn't think it'll be much longer before the sun rises. Bart couldn't tell what time it was since he's wearing one of his father's retro watches from decades ago – the type that _ticks_ instead of _beeps_ and doesn't illuminate in the dead of the night. Of course not, Bart couldn't afford to risk wearing something that could so easily lure _them_ to him before he had a chance to save the world.

He often wonders how different the past would be – maybe children laugh more than scream and cry, or the statues of the Justice League are tourist attractions instead of gravestones. Are winters just as cold then as they are now? Maybe it'll snow white snow instead of black, just like the history books described Earth's winter to be.

"Brrr... alright, no thinking about snow," he reminds himself as he rubs his hands up and down his arm again – it doesn't help change the temperature in the bedroom though; it never does. Leaving both of his hands on the opposite arms, Bart closes his eyes, trying to remember what his dad's hugs felt like. It had been many years since he was given one, but after realizing his dad probably wasn't born yet in the travel destination he was heading to, Bart tries to picture someone else.

_Maybe Grandma Iris – now _that_ woman knows how to hug_, he recalls and smiles again at the thought. _Or Grandpa Barry? I wonder if anyone from the League are huggers..._

He yawns but doesn't let go of his arms. The first time Neutron saw the boy sleeping like this, he had simply figured he was cold and so gave up some of his extra blankets, which Bart declined. What the speedster never told his new friend was that he had been sleeping like that for almost a year and a half, even in the summer time when the air was humid and his skin was soaked in sweat.

When Bart is awake, he races around the streets, avoiding as many fights as possible and trying to find survivors so that he could take to the underground camps. He's usually the one talking when he's carrying a civilian to the secret hideouts, often times about what he's done with his day – the civilians rarely speak, not wanting to explain to the young boy about the tragedies they've suffered in their life. Once there were no more people at Happy Harbour to be rescued, Bart began hearing voices in the back of his head – Bart doesn't ignore them. He finds himself talking to himself a lot and sometimes to inanimate objects.

Neutron called it loneliness.

Bart didn't care what it was. He just knew that at night, when he should be sleeping instead of talking, it didn't feel right without someone holding onto him and ensuring him that he was alright, and that no one would attack him while he was in bed, even if those arms that wrapped around his body were his own.

"Hi," he mutters to himself again, closing his eyes to try to visualize a city full of people, including a family of redheads and a certain blond man. "Hi, who are you? I'm your grandson – I know everything you'll need to know to ensure a bright future. Really now? Well I see you _do_ have the Allen family charm. Great to have you here… you will be staying with us right? You can't leave us – we're your family and families don't leave one another… we want you here… you don't have to go back there, Bart, you can stay…here…" he yawns one last time for the night, "so I don't have to be alone again…"

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**Review**? :)  
I really do want to become a better writer, so reviews and suggestions would be much appreciated.


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